Hold On For Dear Love
by Foreverx17
Summary: They'd started out as strangers before melting into friends. But eventually that line of friendship had become marred until, finally, it was completely obliterated. It was meant to be a temporary thing. But soon, they'd find, the consequences of their actions would end up being much more permanent than either of them were ever prepared for.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own "Once Upon A Time," I'm just playing with the characters._**

 **a / n: Hey guys! Here is my latest Captain Swan fic. It will be a short piece, at least three chapters if not more. Please read and review!**

 **Also, I am now on Twitter (my handle is onomatopoeia91) so please find me on there and send prompts, say hi, whatever floats your boat, err, pirate ship!**

 **I hope you enjoy! xoxo**

* * *

Emma didn't want to go out. It was Friday night and she had just finished a hectic week at work. Working as a private investigator in the city had its perks. She chose which cases she followed, she was pretty much her own boss so she could manage her time the way she wanted. But when she had a case like the Monroe case she'd just finished—two weeks investigating allegations of insider trading at a major company (a favor to her friend David)—she was ready to just soak in a hot bath and sip some wine.

Mary Margaret had other ideas. In her and David's eyes, her finishing this case was cause for celebration, not relaxation.

"Relax when you're dead," she'd so eloquently put it over the phone that afternoon, causing Emma to outwardly roll her eyes. "David's friend just moved here from England. Come out with us!"

"Oh no, I am not letting you and David set me up on another blind date," Emma said firmly. "Are you forgetting Walsh circa 2011?"

She could almost hear her friend roll her eyes on the other end. "I promise we're not setting you up. He's just a really nice guy—"

"I'm sure he is."

"—and he doesn't know anyone here."

"Not my problem."

"I promise it's just a friends. Besides David told me I couldn't set you up anymore."

"Good," she snapped back.

"Emma, have a heart," Mart Margaret practically whined. "I promise if you do this I will leave you alone the entire weekend next week."

Emma raised an eyebrow, even though her friend couldn't see her. "Friday through Sunday?" she asked.

"Emma, Friday does not count as the weekend."

Emma sighed.

"Fine," Mary Margaret caved. "All three days. All yours to do whatever it is you love doing by yourself."

Emma smirked at the exasperation in her friend's voice before exhaling loudly in defeat. "Fine. But I swear if this is a trap—"

"It's not, Emma, I promise! We're going to Mad Hatter Bar at eight. See you there?"

"I'll be there."

— — — —

Emma arrived at the Mad Hatter promptly at 8:15. Mary Margaret had texted her that they'd gotten a table towards the back of the packed bar and Emma smoothed her long hair over her shoulders, running her hands down the lavender blouse she'd changed into, paired with her black skinny jeans and boots.

It had been a while since she'd gone out for a drink and suddenly being back in the loud, electric atmosphere made her realize she did enjoy these outings.

She spotted them quickly. David was in the middle of a story and Mary Margaret was laughing at whatever he was saying. As she got closer she took note of the person sitting with his back to her.

He had dark hair. She took note of the way his black leather jacket stretched across his back. The way he was leaning forward on his stool forced Emma's gaze down to his waist where his fitted black jeans appeared to sit snug. She had become so entranced in staring at this that she didn't even realize she had approached the table until David acknowledged her. Emma quickly snapped out of her daze and moved to her friends, saying a quick hello to them before finally turning to face the stranger she'd practically been ogling from behind.

And lord have mercy, the front was even better than the back. Piercing blue eyes first caught her attention. After that, the dark scruff along his jaw. And finally lower, to where his shirt was unbuttoned at the top where she could see a smattering of chest hair poking through.

Jesus Christ she'd never been turned on this quickly by simply looking at someone.

Thankfully her staring only lasted a few seconds before she managed to snap out of it once again and realize David was talking.

"—just moved here from England three days ago," he was saying.

Shit. She'd missed the first part.

Emma cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, shaking her head and extending her hand out to him. "Hi, I'm Emma."

He chuckled as he reached forward and took her hand in his. "I know. David just said that."

Fuck. That accent.

Noticing the amusement in his eyes made Emma narrow hers at him. He was also still holding her hand, making no move to shake it or let it go.

"Right, sorry, and you are?"

He smirked slightly and she realized it was probably because David had already mentioned that too. Instead of cashing in on her embarrassment though, he brought her hand to his lips, placing a delicate kiss on the back of it. "Killian, love. It's a pleasure."

Seriously? Was the universe just fucking with her now?

She pulled her hand back and nodded, finally shaking off whatever stupor this man had her under as she took a seat between him and Mary Margaret, inconspicuously scooting her chair a bit further away him, wanting to put some distance between them.

"David tells me you're a PI," Killian said smoothly, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

And in that moment Emma resented this man before she even knew him. And it was completely illogical and irrational but she couldn't help it. She could tell from the glint in his eyes that he knew exactly what he was doing. And that irked her for reasons she couldn't understand. All she knew for sure was that this guy was trouble and she best stay away.

— — — —

But of course fate had other plans for her as he became a steady part of their lives. He and David only seemed to grow closer now that Killian had moved to the States, which meant he spent a lot of time with him and Mary Margaret, and since they were two of the few friends Emma had, spending time with him was unavoidable.

The innuendos were heavy at first and there begun a natural state of back and forth between the two of them, where they'd bicker at times like an old married couple (at least according to Mary Margaret). There was just something about him that made her constantly want to argue. They disagreed all the time even though, according to David, they were similar in a lot of ways.

Over the course of the next year, the innuendos calmed down. They still bantered back and forth like cats and dogs over the most menial things. At times she wanted to ring his neck. Other times she wanted to jump his bones. But they never crossed the line of friendship that she'd drawn so boldly into the sand from the beginning. And he never pushed things. Whether it was his respect for his friendship with David or he just didn't find her attractive she didn't know. And she never asked.

It was a friendship. Of sorts. They'd grown to mutually respect each other and most of the time, she found his company pleasant. For the most part.

— — — —

Almost a year to the date, the four found themselves back at Mad Hatter on a Friday night, enjoying drinks and company as they ranted about their respective work weeks.

Killian was a photographer for a magazine based in the city. He did travel every now and then but it was rare and usually only for a few days at a time. Emma had seen his work. He shot everything—landscapes, portraits, wildlife—and he was extremely talented. It was obvious he was passionate about what he did and she respected that. She respected _him_.

Mary Margaret almost spit her beer out, laughing at the impersonation David was currently doing of the landlord at their new place. Emma simply shook her head and laughed along, stealing a glance at Killian who was watching the couple with an odd look on his face. She nudged his leg under the table and he looked over at her.

"You okay?" she asked him.

A slow smile spread across his face as he nodded once. "Aye, Swan." Then addressed the table, "Another round?"

David and Mary Margaret quickly agreed, but Emma frowned as she watched Killian hastily get up out of his seat and head towards the bar. Emma watched his retreating form, wondering what it was he had been thinking about. There had been this faraway look in his eyes as he had stared at the couple to her left, a strange...wanting she'd never seen in him before.

When he returned with a round of shots for them he seemed to have snapped out of whatever thoughts he'd been lost in. The four clinked their glasses together, back to laughing and enjoying each other's company like they always did.

— — — —

The next week when they went out it wasn't just the four of them. Their friends Ruby and Victor tagged along, as well as a guy named Jefferson she'd never met before but who apparently worked at the magazine with Killian. It was obvious an hour into the get together that Emma had been set up.

Jefferson was showing clear interest in her and the way he spoke and acted towards her made it appear that he had insider information that she would no doubt be interested in him too.

She couldn't believe Killian had planned this, it wasn't like him. She glanced at Killian who was blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil, laughing along to whatever Ruby was saying to him.

She looked over at Mary Margaret. _She_ had to be the culprit. And twenty minutes later when the two were alone by the bathrooms, Emma confronted her.

"Seriously?"

Mary Margaret seemed taken aback by Emma's biting tone. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me. I thought we agreed you'd stop setting me up with people."

"I didn't," she said, rather unconvincingly. Then meekly added, "Killian did."

"What?" She was shocked. She would think Killian would know her better than that, than to do something he knew she'd hate.

"Okay, well, that's kind of a lie."

"Mary Margaret." Emma was losing what little patience she had left.

"Okay! I met Jefferson the other day when I was visiting Killian on his lunch break and, I don't know, he just struck me as your type."

"So you just invited a random stranger to tag along and set him up with me."

"He's not a stranger. And I didn't just invite him. I asked Killian about him and he said he was a really good guy so I told him he should invite him out."

Emma raised an eyebrow at her. "And that's it."

Mary Margaret nodded slightly before sighing heavily and rolling her eyes. "Okay fine, I told him I thought you'd be interested in him and to find out if Jefferson was single and interested and he was. Emma, what's the big deal? He's a nice guy and he's really cute. He seems to like you."

"The big deal is I don't want my friends meddling in my love life like this. And I especially don't appreciate you and Killian conspiring behind my back—"

"We were not conspiring! We just—"

Emma held up a hand, halting her friend's words. "Save it. I'm tired. I'm gonna catch a cab home."

Mary Margaret grabbed her arm as she turned to walk away. "Emma, please don't go. I'm sorry. What am I supposed to tell Jefferson?"

Emma smoothly snatched her arm back. "I'll leave that to you and Killian to figure out, since you're both so keen on meddling in other peoples' business."

She didn't wait for Mary Margaret to say anything more, swiftly turning and heading towards the exit. The sidewalk was packed and she knew it'd be a while before she could hail a cab. She was standing outside for fifteen minutes, debating getting an Uber or something, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump slightly as she turned around. She sighed, exasperated, when she saw it was Killian.

"Come to find out how your amateur love connection worked out?" she said spitefully, turning back towards the street.

"Swan, I'm sorry. Mary Margaret is very persuasive when she wants to be..." he started to say, his voice sounding genuinely concerned.

That didn't affect Emma though.

"And here I thought you were a grown man capable of making your own decisions," she bit back.

He sighed. "Look, I get that you're upset..."

Emma rounded on him then. " _Upset_? Killian, you of all people know how I feel about shit like this. I expected it from Mary Margaret, hell even David, but not you." She turned back around, crossing her arms over her chest, feeling slightly like a petulant child.

"Love—"

Emma chuckled darkly and shook her head, turning around to face him once again. "Oh no, don't try that smooth talking bullshit with me."

He opened his mouth to argue, but changed his mind and looked away, scratching behind his ear in a nervous habit she noticed regularly. "Then I suppose all that's left to say is I'm sorry for being out of line."

"Yeah," she harrumphed. Then, when she registered the sincerity in his voice, sighed, "Look, just...forget it. It's so like Mary Margaret. And you just got dragged into it. Just...promise me you won't ever do something like this again. I don't need you guys setting me up, I'm not some lonely old spinster looking to settle down before her eggs dry up—"

"Swan, _love_ , I know that." He raised an eyebrow when she opened her mouth, obviously to protest his use of his favorite endearment for her, almost like he was challenging her to say something about it. Instead she closed her mouth and tried to fight away her smirk. "Truce?" he said, extending his hand out towards her.

She looked at his hand for a few seconds, debating, before she grabbed it in her own and shook. "Truce."

And then, because he was still Killian, he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss on her skin that warmed her insides.

— — — —

It began the way Emma imagined most of these things began. Killian had just broken up with a woman named Belle who he had been dating for the last several months. He wasn't particularly heartbroken and they remained friends, but a few nights after the break up he'd wanted to let loose and get drunk, something he only did on special occasions.

"Celebrating your freedom, Jones?" Emma smirked, sipping her rum.

Killian chuckled, throwing back another shot. "Care to join me, Swan?"

And because she, like him, wasn't exactly excelling in the love department, she agreed wholeheartedly.

They'd gotten three sheets to the wind that night and early the next morning Emma found herself waking up not in her own bed, but a bed she had only seen in passing on her visits to his one bedroom apartment.

She expected it to be awkward once he woke up and they both discovered the drunken mistake they had made. But instead, when Killian's eyes opened up to see her laying there next to him, he'd only smiled and pulled her closer. And for the first time she didn't feel like fleeing.

— — — —

There was no way to paint it in black and white, their relationship. Sex didn't become a regular thing right away. At first, it only happened when they'd had a little too much to drink, almost as if they needed the excuse to go there.

David and Mary Margaret caught onto what was going on pretty quickly, but it was a topic that was never brought up, at least not when they were all together. Mary Margaret definitely hounded her for details when they were alone and she was sure David asked Killian about it too.

The first time they'd had sober sex, they didn't speak for days after. It had just felt too weird. Like they were crossing a line that was not meant to be crossed. But slowly that weirdness dissipated and it became a more regular thing. More regular than either of them cared to admit.

Over the next few months, the two only threw their relationship into a deeper state of confusion as they continued falling into bed together. Neither of them was looking for anything serious, and they dated other people sparingly.

The bickering intensified, almost as if adding the sexual aspect to the relationship ignited a flame between them. Everything he did annoyed her and everything she said, he would disagree with. It was like when they weren't fucking they were fighting and when they weren't fighting they were fucking.

They were in the middle of having a particularly off week—she couldn't remember exactly what he'd said but she'd gotten really pissed off at him. And then he'd gotten pissed off that she was pissed off and they hadn't spoken for the last few days as a result.

"It can't be healthy," she was saying to Ruby as the two perused through some racks at a nearby outlet mall. "I mean, we fight like cats and dogs. It's exhausting."

"Yeah, but I bet the sex is fucking hot," Ruby replied, grabbing a little red number off the rack and holding it against Emma.

Emma knocked the dress away, rolling her eyes. "Ruby."

Ruby sighed, shrugging. "I don't know what you want me to say, Emma. I mean, your guys' relationship is pretty fucking weird. But it seems to work. Or at least, it did."

"He's just been...getting on my nerves lately."

"Does this have something to do with him seeing that chick from work?" Ruby asked casually, sifting through the dresses in front of her.

"Wait, what?" Emma asked, turning her full attention to Ruby. "What chick?"

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows at her. "Milah. I guess she, like, has had the hots for him for a while and he finally asked her out."

"What?"

"Yeah," Ruby nodded, as if she wasn't saying anything of importance. "They've been hanging out for a few weeks. Didn't he tell you this?" She paused. "I think he said they were gonna go see that new superhero movie last night. I _really_ want to see that by the way. Will you go with me?"

Emma looked away, shaking her head. "Y-Yeah..." she said "...sure."

She couldn't believe that Killian had started seeing someone and didn't even tell her. It was an unspoken agreement, a mutual respect that they had for each other, that they'd mention when they were seeing other people. Granted they'd been arguing more than talking as of late, but still, he didn't have the decency to _tell her_?

And, God, they'd just had sex less than two weeks ago! He'd slept with her while he was seeing someone else and didn't even have the _gall_ to tell her?

At first it hurt, but by the time Ruby and Emma left the outlets, that hurt had morphed into something that she was much more comfortable with—pure, unadulterated anger. And she knew exactly who she was going to take it out on.

— — — —

She cornered him that night at Mary Margaret and David's housewarming party. They'd finally bought a small little one story together now that they were engaged. Killian was coming back from the bathroom when she halted him in the hallway, pushing him backwards until his back hit the wall. Thankfully they were far enough away from the party where no one could see or hear them.

"You and I need to talk," she said before he even had a chance to recover from the shock of being physically shoved into the wall behind him.

"Swan, what the hell—"

"You fucked me while you were seeing someone else and you didn't even have the decency to tell me?" Her tone was like acid and it made him shut right the hell up. "I thought we had an understanding."

He finally seemed to come back to himself. "And what was this understanding, Swan? Was it that you get to bite my damn head off every other second?"

Emma shook her head, chuckling darkly. "You know, you turned out to be exactly how I thought you were when I first met you. I guess first impressions really can be telling."

"Oh, pray tell, what impression was that?" he bit back mockingly. "Please, enlighten me."

"That you're an arrogant asshole with no consideration for anyone but himself."

"And you're just a frigid bitch who can't see anything past her own nose."

They'd said things like this to each other before, in the heat of the moment, but it had always been forgiven later on when they'd cool off. Somehow though, this time, she didn't see that happening.

"Fuck you, Jones," she gritted through her teeth.

"Fuck _me_? No. Fuck you, Swan, and that fucking high horse you sit on."

Emma shook her head, her hands literally shaking as she glared at him. "We're done. You and I? We're over." She turned around to walk away when his voice stopped her.

"I've heard that one before."

Emma whipped around to face him again. "Well hear _this_ , asshole. Don't call me again, don't talk to me again, don't even fucking _think_ about me again."

"Oh no, how will I go on?" he bit back sarcastically.

She shook her head again, her anger taking over her, making rational thought impossible. She turned around and headed back into the party, weaving through people as she headed towards the front door. She heard Mary Margaret call her name, but she ignored it. She didn't stop going until she was halfway down the block, where she finally stopped to catch her breath and order an Uber.

— — — —

She'd managed to steer clear of everyone since the housewarming party, although both David and Mary Margaret sensed something had happened between her and Killian. She managed to keep them at bay, telling them she was busy at work, which wasn't a complete lie.

More than anything, she had been feeling under the weather. The nausea started a few days later, and after another week had gone by, she realized her cycle was supposed to have started already. She was never late. If nothing else, her menstrual cycle was the one thing in her life that was consistent.

She tried chalking it up to stress. She even planned outings with her friends again, of course being mindful to avoid any chance of seeing Killian. She hadn't spoken or heard from him since that night at David and Mary Margaret's almost three weeks ago.

But he was never far from her mind.

In fact, he was all she was thinking about that Thursday evening when she left work early to stop at the drug store on her way home. She bought six tests because she didn't want there to be any room for doubt.

Not that there could be when, over an hour later, six positive pregnancy tests sat atop her bathroom counter.

* * *

 **a / n: Oh. My. God. Hi.**

 **Thank you so much for reading. Please review if you have some thoughts!**

 **I will be delving deeper into Killian and Emma's relationship coming up. Also, I know I didn't go into detail with the sexual stuff in this chapter but never fear for it will be coming! It just didn't feel right to add smut to it just yet.**

 **Like I said, this will be a short story, probably just a few chapters.**

 **Don't forget to follow me on Twitter (onomatopoeia91) and thank you again for taking the time to read this! It means a lot (-:**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: Characters from and any references to "Once Upon A Time" belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with the characters._**

 **a / n: Thank you for the reviews/faves/follows. I didn't get too much feedback for this piece so idk if you guys aren't very interested in this storyline or just like reading silently. Regardless, thanks for taking the time to read, and if you have a minute please leave your thoughts because they truly are food for my soul. Here is the next chapter!**

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Of course he'd regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. Calling his Swan such a horrible name, it was out of line. But he had been so riled up in the moment that it had just come out. And then the way she had so casually dismissed whatever relationship they'd had...It had hurt and he didn't want to show it.

David sought him out after Swan's exit, his protective big brother persona coming out when he cornered him in the living room, asking him what the hell had happened. As vaguely as he could, he'd explained that the two merely had a disagreement. "Nothing to fret over, mate," he'd said, though deep down he wasn't sure how true that really was.

It had been three days since that night and he'd lost count of the number of times he'd picked up his phone, scrolling to her name. His thumb would hover over it for a few seconds, sometimes minutes, before he'd let out a sigh of frustration and toss the device aside.

He tried not to think about her in his waking hours, which was easy when he had so much work to do. He was shooting two weddings that week and his mind was kept busy.

It was in the nighttime when he struggled. In the silence and darkness of his bedroom, all he could feel was her. He swore he could still smell her on his pillows, in his sheets. Her shampoo, her perfume, and a scent he could only attribute to her. He wasn't sure if it was just his mind tricking him or if her scent truly lingered. He hadn't washed the sheets since their last tryst and there had been no one else but her in his bed.

 _In his bed_. _Jesus_. Just the thought of her in his bed made him ache.

He remembered the sounds she'd make as he moved inside her, the feel of her thighs squeezing his hips, how warm she was, how wet she'd get for him. He'd never told her, but it was the best sex he'd ever had.

He wasn't all that surprised. They were so passionate as friends, whether it was in arguing or something else. So of course that fire translated to the bedroom ten fold. But there was a silent agreement between them. They were just friends having some fun.

However, over the course of the next few months of their escapades, he began to feel more. He wasn't sure if he had started acting differently, but as soon as he started developing deeper feelings, he couldn't stop. But it was clear to him that she saw them as temporary, and that hurt him. And instead of saying something, instead of making himself vulnerable, he'd lash out. And because his Swan was just as stubborn, she'd give as good as she got.

They started arguing more and more and it seemed the longer they did this, whatever _this_ was, the more attached he felt, and the more her distance cut through him.

It was his fault just as much as hers really. He'd agreed to this. At the time, he'd truly thought that whatever they had would only be physical. He'd foolishly believed their friendship would remain outside of it all in the end, unchanged.

How wrong he'd been.

The sound of his phone ringing snapped him out of his reverie and he glanced down to see Mary Margaret's name on the screen. He furrowed his brows in confusion, seeing as it was the middle of the work day and it was odd for her to be calling at this time.

When he answered, he was met with Mary Margaret's worried voice on the other end. "Killian, hi, I'm sorry to bother you. I know you're really busy this week."

He shook his head. "No matter, lass, I'm just editing some photographs today. Is everything okay?"

She sighed. "I just...I haven't heard from Emma in a few days and I'm getting worried."

That caught his attention, but he tried to sound casual in his response. "Perhaps work has her occupied."

"No," she said, "I remember Emma saying she didn't have a case this week at all. She was looking forward to some down time. I've been trying to call her since the other night, but she's not returning any of my calls." She paused. "I was going to go to her place today, but I thought I'd call you first, see if you've heard anything. I know you two had some sort of... _tiff_...the other night..."

"She hasn't returned _any_ of your calls?" he asked, unable to cloak the concern in his voice.

"None. I mean, sometimes it takes her a few hours to get back to me, maybe a _day_ , but it's been _three_ and she's isn't texting or calling. I'm sure she's okay, I just..."

"Say no more, lass. Listen, how 'bout I go check on her? You're all the way on the other side of town."

"I really don't mind making the trip, Killian."

"Aye, I know that. But it's really no trouble. I'm just finishing up with this project now and I'll head over."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Killian?" Mary Margaret asked warily. "I just...things between you two have been... _tense_ , as of late."

 _Tense_. Yes, he silently agreed. Things between them had certainly been _tense_. But that didn't mater now. Regardless of whether or not they were speaking, Emma was his friend and he cared for her.

After a few minutes he convinced Mary Margaret that he was to go check on her and that he would update her on what happened.

Not even an hour later he was standing outside Emma's apartment, his hands suddenly shaking with nerves. He took a deep breath, swallowed the lump in his throat, and knocked.

It was a few minutes before he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. He waited with baited breath, but there was no answer. He knocked again.

"Swan," he called through the thick wood. "Look, love, I know I'm the last person you want to see right now—" The words died in his throat when the door suddenly swung open.

Emma stood there in her flannel pajamas, a thunderous look on her face as she gripped the door in her hand. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I, uh..." He scratched behind his ear before meeting her gaze. "I was worried about you."

She chuckled darkly. "Right." When she went to slam the door in his face, he reached out his hand and forced it to stay open, causing her to glare at him. "What do you _want_?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice.

"No one's heard from you in days. You've got everyone worried."

"Well kindly pass the message along that I'm a grown woman and if I want to fall off the face of the earth for a few days, that's my right." She made to close the door again, but he stopped her once more. " _Seriously_?" she demanded. "I thought I made it clear I didn't want to see you again."

"Oh, you meant that?" he said, trying to lighten the mood. Her gaze only hardened further. He cleared his throat. "Listen, Swan, about the other night..."

"I _really_ don't want to talk about it."

"Well I do," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Look, just...I think we're long overdue for a talk, wouldn't you say?"

"I really have nothing to say to you."

"Truly?" He raised a skeptical brow. "Look, I know things between us have been...tense lately," he said, using Mary Margaret's turn of phrase, "but despite everything that's happened, you're my friend and I do care for you, Swan. Now, please, may I come in?"

"I said no," she responded firmly, as if his words had no affect on her. But he could seen in her eyes that they did. He was always able to read her eyes even when her lips were lying.

He heaved another heavy sigh. "Jesus, Swan. Listen, I'm sorry about what I said the other night, I..."

"You called me a ' _frigid bitch_ ' in case you don't recall," she bit back harshly.

"You used some colorful words yourself, love. Let's not forget that."

Her jaw locked at his words as she stared at him, knowing he had her there.

"I meant every word," she said, her voice only wavering slightly. "You _are_ a selfish asshole. And I still have nothing to say to you."

"Swan—" But before he could finish, her eyes suddenly went wide and her hand went to her stomach. He looked at her worriedly before she turned around and ran down the hallway, leaving him standing in the doorway completely and utterly confused. "Swan?" he called, stepping into the apartment. He closed the door behind him and followed the path she'd gone. That's when he heard the sounds of her coughing and gagging behind the closed bathroom door.

"Emma," he said, placing a hand on the door, his other going to the knob. He silently cursed when he realized she'd actually thought to lock the door behind her. "Emma," he said again as the sounds of her being sick echoed in the bathroom. "Love, are you alright?"

He stood there for several minutes. There was a flush and then the sink turned on. He stepped back when she finally opened the door and stood in the doorway, one hand on her stomach, looking far more worse for wear than he'd ever seen her before.

"Are you ill?" he asked, taking a step forward and placing his palm on her forehead.

The touch seemed to snap her back to the present as she flinched away before moving past him towards the kitchen. Killian couldn't help but clench his jaw as he watched her retreating form. He counted to ten before he followed after her. He stood on the other side of the island in her small kitchen as she poured herself a large glass of orange juice, downing half the contents in a few big gulps.

He watched as she stared down at the granite countertop afterwards, taking deep breaths in and out, opening and closing her eyes as she seemed to regain her composure. She finally looked up at him—this time not glaring, just looking completely exhausted.

"Look, just...leave," she said softly. "Please."

"Love, you're sick, let me—"

"I'm not _sick_ ," she bit back, the anger returning to her for a moment before she took in another few breaths. "I'm not sick. Just tired."

"Then you should rest, Emma. Please, just let me take care of you," he said, moving to come to the other side of the island. But she only moved away, keeping the counter between them. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"I don't need your help," she said. "I don't need _you_. Have I not made that clear? You have no place in my life anymore. We're _through_."

"Emma, we both said things the other night that we didn't mean."

She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. "I told you, I meant every word I said. And I definitely meant it when I said I never want to see or hear from you ever again."

"You mean it's that easy for you? It's that easy to just...cut me out of your life?" he asked, the hurt evident in his voice.

"As easy as it was for you to fuck me like it meant nothing to you, yeah."

He was taken aback by her words as if she'd slapped him across the face, and he was sure she could see it.

"Emma, how could you...? Is that what you _think_?"

She shook her head. "Please, Killian, just leave."

"No," he said, closing the distance between them before she could move. He grabbed the tops of her arms gently, holding her there even as she struggled half-heartedly to get away from him. "Look, I know things between us have been fucked up. I know I've made mistakes. But please, don't push me away. It may be that easy for you, but it isn't for me. I _can't_ lose you. I _won't_."

She seemed taken aback by the sincerity in his words, but didn't say anything.

"We've both made mistakes, love," he continued. "But let's not punish ourselves for it. Please. Let me help you."

"You can't help me, Killian," she said, her voice wavering as he saw tears spring to her eyes. "It's too late for that."

"What? No, no I won't accept that."

"Well I don't care!" she snapped, slapping his arms away and moving away from him. "I don't care about _you_. I don't even _like_ you. You were a good fuck, a nice distraction, but that's _it_."

He felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. He couldn't comprehend her words. If he truly meant nothing to her, why had she reacted the way she had when she found out about Milah? It didn't make any sense.

Looking back, he knew why he hadn't told her that he'd started seeing someone else and he kicked himself inwardly because of it. He just wanted to see if she felt even an inkling for him what he felt for her. It was immature and stupid, but he needed to see if her seeing him with someone else would affect her.

"I don't believe you," he finally replied. "You're just trying to hurt me."

"I don't care what you believe," she said. "Get out."

He opened his mouth to speak before closing it, his jaw clenching. "I'll leave if you can actually look me in the eye and tell me you don't care about me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, the challenge in them clear. Her gaze was unwavering as she answered, "I don't care about you."

He held her stare for what felt like an eternity but was only a few seconds. He dropped her gaze and looked at the countertop again. He knew she was lying; he had always been able to read her like an open book. But he also knew she was stubborn, and she would stand by her words even if it killed her.

"Fine," he said after a minute. "I'll leave. If that's truly what you want." He caught her eyes again, but she quickly looked away.

"It is," she said.

He nodded to himself before turning and walking back down the hallway to the front door. When he opened it, he turned around, half expecting her to be standing there. But she wasn't. With a heavy sigh he stepped out into the cold hallway and pulled the door closed behind him.

—O—O—

Emma had to grab onto the edge of the counter to keep herself from falling over. As soon as the front door closed she broke down, the tears she had tried desperately to keep at bay finally breaking free.

She had been so close to telling Killian the truth, but she was too much of a coward.

She had spent the last few days realizing every mistake she'd made with him, starting with their first drunken encounter. She'd tried to ignore the feelings growing inside of her, but when she'd discovered he'd been seeing someone else, it was almost impossible to do. Still, she tried to deny it, summoning all the anger she could hurl at him to hide what she really felt.

She couldn't deny it any longer, though, when she found out she was pregnant. After the initial shock had worn off, there was relief. Relief that this baby wasn't just anyone's. Relief that it was _his_.

But that had set off another wave of nausea because it forced her to face the truth: she had gone and fallen in love with him. What a _fucking_ idiot.

She hadn't been with anyone seriously since her last boyfriend almost eight years ago. It had been the first time she'd opened herself up to love. They were together almost two years when she discovered that for almost half that time, he'd been seeing someone else too. And when he'd been confronted about it, he didn't seem half as distraught as she thought he'd be at getting caught. To him, she had just been another conquest that didn't work out.

It had broken her, it really had. And if it hadn't been for Mary Margaret and David, she didn't think she'd have ever survived it.

Because she had been given up as a baby days after she was born, Emma always felt herself to be unlovable. But she'd finally given it a chance, just to have her heart broken. She'd sworn off ever falling in love again.

And it had been easy. She dated casually here and there, the occasional one night stand. Mary Margaret often tried to set her up, but they always ended in disaster. Thankfully, no one she met stirred any feelings inside of her. That was, of course, until she met _him_.

When she met Killian that first night there had been an instant attraction. She could see herself falling hard for this man. That had been her first red flag.

Sleeping with him had been so stupid. But he'd shown interest and she'd imagined what it'd be like with him so many times she just had to know.

And her imagination did not do him justice. Killian was just as much a passionate lover as he was a passionate friend, a passionate human being. She tried to attribute her newfound feelings to a mere physical attraction, but as they continued their escapades her feelings only grew. Instead of owning up to them she deflected to her fail safe, which was keeping her walls up and firm.

So they'd argue. They argued anyways, but as her feelings grew deeper, they fought more and more. He annoyed her so much because she _wanted_ him so much. She was both pushing him away and pulling him closer. She wanted him to stay, but she was terrified he'd leave.

So she hid behind her walls. She hid behind her words. And because he was just as stubborn as her, he didn't back down, meeting her anger with his own.

Now, it had just been too much. She couldn't do it anymore. So she'd done the only thing she could think of. She'd lied and said he meant nothing to her.

 _God_ and what a blasphemous lie it had been. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

 _But protect yourself and you'll never get hurt._

The familiar mantra played over and over in her head. Isolation, that was key.

And look, he'd left. Without another word, he left. And although she'd pushed him away, she tried to convince herself he'd given up on her just like everyone else had. The lie made her feel better, it took the responsibility off of her, even if it was just a farce.

But, she told herself, she didn't need him. Regardless if she was carrying a part of him inside her, this was something she would and could do on her own. After all, she'd mastered the art of being alone.

—O—O—

It was several weeks later when she finally went to the doctor. She was a little less than eleven weeks along and was told all of her options. When the doctor had brought up terminating the pregnancy, she felt her heart clench as if someone had reached into her chest and squeezed the organ.

"No," she had said. "That's not an option."

Neither, she realized, was it an option to keep this from Killlian. He had a right to know.

She was now sitting in the local Starbucks, sipping a hot decaf tea as she waited for Mary Margaret to join her.

After Killian's visit that night almost three weeks ago, she had called her friend, instantly feeling terrible when she realized how worried she and everyone else had been. Mary Margaret apparently had to stop Ruby from showing up at Emma's doorstep wielding a hammer to break down the the door. It warmed her a little, knowing there were people who cared for her.

So she tried being social again, but making sure to only spend time with the women. She missed David, but he and Killian were too close, and being near David made her feel closer to Killian and that was something she just couldn't handle.

Killian had texted her several nights after he'd shown up at her place, just wanting to see if she was feeling better. She sent him a brief message that she was fine, unable to resist adding that he didn't have to check up on her anymore. That was the last time she'd heard from him, though Ruby and Mary Margaret mentioned him several times during their get togethers.

"He's asking about you," Ruby had said. "He just wants to know you're okay."

"Tell him I'm fine and to stop worrying," she'd snapped back, effectively putting an end to that conversation.

But then a few times Mary Margaret would bring it up too. "You should call him," she said gently. "Honestly, Emma, he's been a compete wreck these last two weeks."

And she had considered calling him a few times, she couldn't deny that. She knew eventually she had to tell him. She just wasn't ready yet.

But today she was taking a first step in that direction. She was telling Mary Margaret.

The door to the coffee shop opened, snapping Emma out of her thoughts as she looked up and saw her friend walk in. When she spotted Emma, a smile lit up her face as she walked over to her. The two hugged in greeting before Mary Margaret went to order her drink.

Emma waited impatiently as her friend's order was called, exhaling a shaky breath when she came back to the table with her venti latte and sat down across from Emma at the small table.

"I haven't had my coffee yet today," Mary Margaret smiled. "What did _you_ get?"

Emma shrugged, her hands wrapping tightly around her cup. "Just some tea."

"Tea?" Her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. "Since when do you drink tea?"

"Since I'm pregnant and really don't like decaf coffee. At least decaf tea isn't so bad," she blurted out.

Mary Margaret spit out her drink, garnering looks from all around the crowded coffee shop. She blushed and quickly picked up a napkin to clean herself up, her eyes staying on Emma.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"I don't like decaf—"

"Emma Marie Swan!"

Emma sighed, sitting back in her chair and shrugging. "I'm pregnant," she said quietly. "Almost thirteen weeks."

"And it's..." She trailed off, knowing Emma would understand what she was asking.

"Yes," she said. "It's his."

"Oh my God, Emma. And you haven't told him?"

"You're the first person I've told besides the doctor."

"You mean you've been doing this all on your own?"

Emma nodded, and suddenly she couldn't hold back the emotions anymore, tears springing to her eyes as she looked down and completely crumbled.

"Oh, Emma." Mary Margaret quickly came around to her side of the table, wrapping her arms around her friend.

Emma held on tightly, taking comfort in being held for the first time in a long time. The two women held onto each other for a while, Mary Margaret rubbing soothing circles on her back, saying "it's okay, sweetheart," and "I'm here now."

Once Emma calmed down, Mary Margaret resumed her seat across from her, waiting as Emma dabbed at her eyes and cheeks with a napkin.

"I know I have to tell him," she finally said, her voice shaking. "I just don't know how. The last time I saw him...I just...I don't know how he's going to react."

"But Emma you know you have to tell him eventually. You're just making it harder putting it off."

"Don't you think I know that?" She sniffed. "I'm just scared. I know I probably shouldn't have kept it, I'm stupid for thinking I could raise a baby on my own—"

"Emma you will _not_ be alone. Besides the fact that we are all here for you, there is no way Killian will ever turn away from this."

"Mary Margaret, what twenty-nine year old man wants to have a child with a woman he isn't even serious about?"

"Isn't _serious_ about?" she asked incredulously, and Emma saw something in her friend's eyes. Mary Margaret knew something she wasn't saying. She couldn't dwell on it further though because she was quick to continue. "Emma, you need to tell him. Soon, because you've already waited long enough."

She knew Mary Margaret was right, but that didn't make her any less terrified.

The two women talked for a couple of hours, Mary Margaret wanting to know everything about Emma and the baby. Emma could truly sense the concern in her friend's voice and it warmed her hardened heart even further.

—O—O—

She was fourteen or so weeks along and she was starting to show. Emma studied her profile in the bathroom mirror, her shirt lifted up so she could see the small, protruding belly. She rubbed her hand gently along the tiny bump, a smile touching the corners of her lips. Everything about this terrified her, but somehow—standing there with her hand resting where there was life growing inside of her—she felt a sense of peace

She called him that night, but got his voicemail. Curled up on her couch, she held a pillow tightly in her lap as the tone beeped for her to leave a message.

"Hi, it-it's me," she started, "Emma...I just...I really need to talk to you. It's important. Please call me back when you get this." She hung up, hating how weak and vulnerable she had sounded. She kept her phone close by the rest of the night, but there was no response.

She must have dozed off because she woke up to the familiar sound of her ringtone. Sitting up on the couch, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and grabbed the device off the coffee table. The time at the top read 3:30, and below that was his name. She took a deep breath and answered.

"Killian?" she asked, her voice laced in confusion. "It's after three in the morning."

"I'm well aware of what time it is, love," he responded, his voice slightly slurred. "But the curiosity was too much, I couldn't wait until tomorrow. By the way, what are you wearing?"

Jesus, she thought. He was drunk.

"Killian, where are you?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"I'm outside Shirley's Liquor Store on Main Street, my love, where are you?"

Emma ignored the way her heart clenched at his endearment. "I'm at home, it's the middle of the night. Killian, are you by yourself?"

"Perhaps..." he said. "Perhaps not."

"You're drunk."

"And whose fault is that. Hmm, love?"

"What? How is this _my_ fault?"

"Because I was doing just bloody fine, having a few pints with Dave, when I see _you're_ bloody number show up on my phone. After three weeks! _Three weeks_ , Swan! What the hell do you want from me?"

"Nothing when you're like this," she said firmly.

"Well I'm sorry because _this_ is all you're going to get. Tell me, Swan, why did you call me? Was it just to tell me again how little I mean to you? Did you feel the need to rip my heart out even further, love? _Tell me_."

She scrunched her brows in confusion, his drunken ramblings taking her off guard.

Did he even realize what he was saying?

She heard him sigh heavily into the phone. "Why did you call me, Swan?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"I just...I wanted to hear your voice," she said, and it was partly true.

He chuckled darkly. "Missed me, have you?"

She clenched her jaw when his flirtatious persona returned.

"Tell me, love, do you ever think about it?"

"About what?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Don't play ignorant with me, Swan. You do, don't you? You think about it. About _us_. In your bed, in _my_ bed." He lowered his voice as he continued, "Do you remember how it felt when I was inside you? When you were gripping me _so tight_. You always get so fucking wet for me, love."

Emma clenched her thighs together, the mixture of his words and her hormones making the desire pool low in her belly.

"Are you there, Emma?" he asked, his voice still dangerously low. "Are you thinking about it now?"

"Killian—"

" _Gods_ , love, let me be in you one more time."

"Killian," she whimpered, half in arousal, half in pain.

"Anything, love. Gods, I'll give you anything," he said quickly, passionately. "You know that, don't you?"

Emma sniffed back the tears that threatened to come bursting out at any minute. Hearing his voice... _God_ she missed him so much.

"Killian, please get a taxi. I don't want you out, stumbling and drunk."

"Worried about me, love?"

"Of course I'm worried about you, you idiot!" she yelled at him, tears now streaming down her face.

"Really? Because you made it quite clear that I mean nothing to you," he said, his voice hardening slightly.

"We can't discuss this when you're drunk. Please, get a cab and go home. You need to sleep this off."

"Maybe I don't want to sleep it off. Maybe I want to sleep with _you_."

"Killian..."

"Right. You don't want me. Perhaps I'll call someone else then. You know I have plenty of other offers, love."

"You're disgusting."

He laughed heartily. "That may be, love, that may be."

A stretch of silence fell between them before she sighed. "Come _here_ ," she pleaded softly.

He didn't respond at first and she thought maybe he didn't hear her. She was just about to open her mouth to say something else when his husky voice came on the other end.

"I'm hailing a taxi now, love, I'll be right there."

—O—O—

It was after four when there was a tentative knock on her front door. The tears had dried and Emma took a deep breath and stood up, smoothing her shirt over her stomach. The blouse was black and flowy, effectively hiding her bump.

She didn't even look through the peephole before she opened the door. He was leaning against the door frame, one hand gripping a bottle wrapped in a paper bag. He looked up when she answered, a slow, lazy smirk gracing his beautiful, drunk face.

"The lady beckoned me and here I am," he said dramatically, bowing slightly. She merely rolled her eyes and stepped aside, ignoring his smirk and the scent of his cologne as he walked in.

She closed and locked the door, steeling herself before finally turning around. He was stumbling a bit, kicking off his shoes while trying to shrug off his jacket, all the while not letting go of the liquor bottle in his hand.

"Here," she sighed, taking the bottle from him and helping him out of his leather jacket. She felt his eyes on her as she hung the jacket on a hook in the foyer. When she turned around he was right there, his breath fanning across her face, completely saturated in the rum he'd been drinking.

She took a step back and held up the bottle she was still holding. "Where's the top?" she asked him.

Killian produced it from his jeans pocket, but held it out of reach. "Who says I'm finished drinking?"

" _I_ say," she snapped, managing to grab it from his hand. A drunk Killian had far slower reflexes than a sober one.

She screwed the cap onto the rum and took it into the kitchen, placing it on the countertop. When she turned around, he was there again, only a foot or so between them as he leaned back against the island across from her.

"I like when you boss me around, love," he smiled lasciviously. "It gets me all hot and bothered."

"Killian..." she started.

But then he was pushing away from the island and crowding her against the counter behind her. He placed his hands on the countertop on either side of her, completely encasing her in his scent and presence.

He moved his face over her cheek, down to her neck, his lips ghosting across her sensitive flesh. "You claim not to want me, but your pulse still goes _wild_ for me, love," he whispered, his voice affecting her in the way it always did. She had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud. "Let me have you again," he said, moving back to look at her, their noses almost touching. "Let me make love to you again, my Swan."

Her breath stuttered in her throat.

He moved his lips to her other side, trailing kisses down to her collarbone. "I'll make you feel good, love, you know I will."

His hands moved from the countertop to her sides, sliding up and grazing the sides of her breasts before they slid back down, gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him. She couldn't hold back the gasp when she felt him hard against her.

He chuckled against her flesh. "Always hard for you, aren't I? _Jesus_ , what you do to me." Before she could respond, he was kissing her lips, his mouth completely devouring her.

She lost herself for a moment, her arms moving up to around his neck, holding him to her as his tongue slipped past her lips, tasting her, breathing her in. He shifted impossibly closer, his hands going under her shirt, sliding across her waist, her stomach, _her_ _stomach_...

His lips stuttered before he pulled away and looked down, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She bit her lip as she watched him, completely frozen to her spot as he slowly lifted up her shirt and ran his hands over the smooth skin of her belly, a belly that was obviously very swollen.

"Swan," he whispered, his eyes watching as his hands smoothed over the bump.

"Killian," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, this is what I was trying to tell you..."

Her words trailed off as he fell to his knees before her, his hands still holding her shirt up as his face rubbed gently against her belly. She watched in utter shock and confusion as he placed reverent kisses on the bump, his hands smoothing over her skin as he continued to nuzzle her.

"Mine," he whispered before his startlingly blue eyes snapped up to her. "Tell me it's mine."

Emma almost broke at the utter desperation in his voice. "Of course it's yours, you idiot," she whispered shakily, tears streaming down her face as she placed her hands against both sides of his face.

He didn't need any further prompting, standing up and fusing his lips to hers once more. His hands continued rubbing over her stomach as he kissed her passionately, his mouth completely consuming hers before he finally pulled back and leaned his forehead against the side of her face, panting.

"Emma," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Shh." She carded her fingers through his hair, pulling back until he met her gaze. "Come on, you need to sleep. You're still drunk. We can talk about this in the morning."

She knew he had only sobered slightly upon learning about the baby and that he was still pretty gone. Although his reaction had been unexpected and warmed her insides, she also knew that when he was completely sober and clear thinking, he may not have the same response.

 _God_ , she hoped he had the same response.

He didn't argue as she pulled him down the hall to her bedroom. Didn't protest when she pushed on his shoulders to sit him down, leaning down to take off his socks before she helped him lift his shirt up and off. He managed not to make any innuendos as she pulled his jeans off of him, leaving him in his black boxer briefs, before folding his clothes and placing them on the small armchair in the corner. She turned back around and watched as he pulled the covers back, slipping under the sheets and laying on his back, watching her expectantly.

It only took her a few seconds to make her decision. She walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in next to him, rolling onto her side so her back was to him.

She waited.

At least a minute went by before she finally felt him press against her back, his arm sliding around her waist, his face nuzzling into her hair and neck. She smiled slightly, placing her hand over his and moving it over her belly. He placed a kiss against her shoulder and sighed.

"I love you, Emma Swan," he whispered against her.

Her mouth opened in a gasp at his words, but several seconds later she heard the soft sound of his snoring and knew he'd passed out.

 _I love you, Emma Swan._

The words echoed in the darkness and haunted her dreams the entire night.

* * *

 **a / n: There will of course be another chapter. It may be the last one, but I'm not sure yet. Please leave your thoughts and also feel free to find me on Twitter (onomatopoeia91) and say hi, talk about the fic, or anything else. I'm also now taking CS fanfic prompts! Thank you for reading, lovelies!**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: Characters from and any references to "Once Upon A Time" belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with the characters._**

 **a / n: Thank you for the reviews/faves/follows. They truly mean a lot and I'm so happy that so many liked this storyline. Enjoy!**

* * *

In the back of her mind she knew she was dreaming. There was a haziness to her movements. All she could see was him.

His hands roamed down her sides, hitching one of her legs up on his waist as a gasp escaped her mouth and his wet lips moves to her neck, her collarbone. He parted the top of her blouse slightly, placing delicate kisses at the top of her breasts as his hand moved to the front of her skirt. His hand snuck underneath. She wasn't wearing panties and when he realized this, he let out a dark chuckle, his fingers smoothing over her wet lips before he inserted two of his long fingers, stroking them in and out.

She moaned loudly as the sensation took over her body. His mouth continued sucking at her chest while his fingers continued their ministrations, never ceasing. She was on the brink of release when he added a third finger, and she exploded with a loud moan and gasp of his name as his thumb found her clit.

Slowly, as she came down from her high and became aware of her senses, she blinked her eyes open. She was lying on her bed, a hard leg between her thighs that she was currently grinding against as the aftershocks of her orgasm shook her. It was then she finally realized where she was.

Embarrassed by her erotic dream, Emma didn't chance a look up at Killian's face. They were cuddled close, her head buried in his naked chest, his leg lean and hard between hers, and when she moved her knee up slightly, she felt a different hardness hit her leg. She gasped and closed her eyes.

In the darkness of the room he couldn't see the intense blush on her face. She was starting to wonder if he was still sleeping when she felt his hand stroke up and down her back gently, his lips pressing into her hair.

"Emma," he whispered, his voice breaking the muted silence. She nuzzled further into him, not able to face him. "Love, look at me."

Letting out a soft sigh against his chest, she rubbed her nose into his hair before lifting her head up and looking at him. She could barely make out his features in the dark, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I just..."

He cut her off with a sound kiss to the lips that took her breath away for a moment before he pulled back and bumped her nose with his.

"You're beautiful when you come," he whispered, his breath fanning softly against her face.

Something in her snapped and she needed him. He was better than any dream.

She knew she took him off guard when she attacked his lips, pushing until he was lying on his back. His hands went to her hips as she continued dominating his mouth with her own, her legs straddling his as she ground down on his erection. She was still wound up from her climax and the friction was delicious on her sensitive center.

She wasted no time, pulling at his boxer briefs, the only piece of clothing he wore. He helped her pull them off before they worked on her shorts and panties, throwing them off the side of her bed. He gasped into her mouth when she suddenly sank down on him. It had been over two months since they had been together and the feeling of him filling her up was almost more than she could take.

"Mmm," she moaned against his mouth as she started to move, her slippery heat gripping him tight as she broke away for air.

"That's it, Swan," he murmured against her skin. "Come apart for me, love."

She moaned loudly as he hit that sweet spot inside of her and he suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist and helping her lift on and off of him. They pulled away only for him to pull her sleep tank over her head, tossing it aside before latching onto a nipple. He sucked hard and she screamed out her second orgasm of the night.

Her entire body was shaking as he helped guide her until she could barely move. That's when she sat back, her hands behind her and her feet braced on the bed as she began lifting up and down slowly, squeezing him and making him moan.

His hands splayed her waist, his eyes focused on where they were connected as she began moving faster, wanting to get him there like he had done for her.

"Killian," she gasped, one hand reaching around his neck for balance. "Come for me. Please."

He couldn't resist her moaning like that and a second later he came with a gruff groan, his hips stuttering as they moved to meet hers. She felt his seed coat her walls as she slowed her pace and slumped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

They were both panting as Killian lay back with her still perched on his chest. They laid there for several minutes, Emma too comfortable to move. After they'd caught their breath, Emma moved off of him, both hissing at the feeling of loss when they disconnected. He didn't let her go far, tucking her into his side as she wrapped her arm around him and they fell back into a deeper sleep.

OOOOOOO

When Emma opened her eyes again, the sun was peering in through the curtains of her bedroom and the spot beside her was cold. She was on her stomach, her arm extended out towards where Killian had been. She frowned as she sat up, wincing at the slight soreness between her thighs. She was more sensitive these days and it had been a while.

She ran her hands through her long hair and looked around for her clothes. She was just pulling up her shorts when she remembered what it was that had woken her up in the middle of the night and she felt embarrassed all over again. She had been a pregnant, horny being for the last several weeks; the only release she found was with her own hand.

Maybe he wouldn't say anything.

Shaking her head, she pulled on her tank top and sat on the edge of the bed, heaving a heavy sigh as her hand instinctively went to her swollen belly. She smiled slightly when she remembered Killian's adorable, drunken reaction to the news that she was pregnant, but in the back of her mind there was anxiety.

What if he didn't remember? What if he felt differently sober?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Killian walked in the door a moment later. She looked up and saw him, wearing only his boxer briefs and his tee shirt from last night. He carried in a glass of orange juice and a plate stacked with pancakes.

"Morning, love," he said, kissing the top of her head and placing the plate down beside her. It felt so...domestic. And so right. He held the orange juice out to her. "Are you thirsty?"

She was famished, but she only nodded and took the glass from him, gulping it down in one go, making him smile. She wiped her mouth with her finger before smiling into the empty glass.

"Shouldn't I be the one offering you liquids and food? I'm sure you've got a pretty killer hangover." She finally looked up and met his eyes. He was watching her with an intensity she'd never seen before.

"I'm fine, Emma," he said, grabbing the plate off the bed and sitting down beside her. "Are you hungry?"

"Killian, I'm starving," she admitted, reaching over and grabbing a pancake. "Mmm, chocolate chip." She folded it in half and took a hearty bite, moaning at the warm, fluffy texture.

He chuckled. "I noticed a rather large bag of chocolate chips sitting on the island so I took the hint," he smirked.

Emma shook her head, taking another bite. "I've been craving chocolate for weeks." She froze. It was the first time she'd addressed the pregnancy since last night. She finished chewing the bite in her mouth, swallowing it down before looking over at him.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, stroking her back up and down, a soft smile on his face. "You're so beautiful, you know that?"

Emma smiled softly and ducked her head. "Thanks."

His voice dropped lower as he leaned into her, "You're even more beautiful when you wake me up, grinding against my leg, coming, moaning my name."

She blushed harder, burying her face into his neck. "Killian—"

"Don't you dare hide for me," he murmured, pulling back and cradling her cheek in his palm. "Let me see your face." He stroked her face gently, his thumb moving against her lips.

"I've been craving a lot of things since I've been pregnant," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well I'm here now. Maybe I can help... _ease_ your cravings."

She smiled widely at the innuendo in his voice, the mischief in his eyes. He chuckled and leaned forward, capturing her lips in his, the pancakes forgotten; the only craving she wanted to indulge now was him.

OOOOOOO

They spent the remainder of the morning making love, barely leaving the bedroom. When it was evening, they ordered dinner in, not wanting to leave the comfort of her apartment. It was when they were eating on the couch that the elephant in the room finally came up.

"Why did it take so long for you to tell me?"

Emma looked up when she heard his soft voice. He was looking down at his plate, moving vegetables around with his fork and she thought maybe she imagined the question. But she felt it, heavy in the air between them.

She cleared her throat and grabbed her glass of water, taking a few sips. "I didn't know how to tell you," she admitted. "I was...confused about where we stood. I didn't know what to do."

She felt his eyes on her and looked up.

"Tell me you've had Mary Margaret or Ruby helping you," he said.

"I just told Mary Margaret the other week. She's been great so far."

"Swan, I wish you would have told me sooner," he said, leaning back against the couch and sighing.

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head and reached out to take her hand. "Don't apologize, love. It's not your fault. I'm the bloody arse."

"You're not."

"Swan—"

"No, Killian, listen. I don't know what happened with us. It's like...we were just fighting all the time and...I was so confused for so long about...how I felt."

"And how is it that you feel?"

She looked up into his too blue eyes once more. "I feel like, I want to be with you all the time...Like...all the time."

He chuckled and she smiled as tears filled her eyes.

"I hate being away from you," she continued. "And that made me feel weak for the longest time and I think I resented you for that. And that's wrong and I know that now, but Killian...could you really be with me? I'm so fucked up and, God, you could do so much better than me—"

He cut her off with a kiss to her lips, effectively shushing her before pulling back and nuzzling her cheek, murmuring against her skin, "Don't you dare bad-mouth the mother of my child."

And she giggled and fell into him once more.

OOOOOOO

They decided to wait until Emma started showing when they finally told Ruby and Victor their news and Killian phoned home to announce it to his older brother and sister in law. Everyone was so happy for them, and the faith they had in them put Emma's worry at ease.

For the most part.

She still had doubts about whether she'd be a good mom. She didn't really have one growing up, and she never wanted this child to ever feel alone like she did.

Killian was always there to ease her anxieties, talk her down from her ledge. It was like as soon as they were honest with each other about their feelings, a whole new world was opened up to them. She wanted to be with him all the time and when he was away, there was an ache in her chest until he returned.

But because they were still Emma and Killian, stubborn as all hell in their own right and never ones to back down from an argument, they still butted heads like no other. So many times when it happened her reflex was to run, and she did the first few arguments they had. He let her cool off before approaching her. But then one time he didn't let her walk away, he kept her there and talked to her until her urge to flee faded away. After that she always thought twice when she wanted to run.

They were in the middle of one of their little arguments right then, in the middle of the freezer aisle at the grocery store. Emma was about six months along now and definitely showing. She was holding two cartons of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, debating which one she'd get even though they both knew she would get more than one. She could practically feel his gaze on her, burning a hole in the back of her neck. Letting out a long sigh, she turned around and tossed both cartons into the cart.

"Okay," she said, standing up straight and placing her hands on her hips. "Are you going to continue brooding or will you just talk to me about what's clearly bothering you?"

His jaw clenched slightly, but he didn't break away from her gaze. "Can we actually have a conversation about this or are you just going to deflect?"

Emma rolled her eyes and turned back to the freezer, picking out a box of Popsicles and tossing them in the cart.

"Don't you think we have enough frozen treats, Swan?"

Emma clenched her own jaw as she looked back at him. "I don't know. Do you think we do?"

"Obviously. That's why I asked you."

"Oh sorry," she threw back sarcastically. "I couldn't read between your passive aggressive lines."

"Passive—" His jaw twitched once more as his grip on the cart's handle tightened. "At least when someone asks me who you are, I know without a doubt what my response will be."

"Oh my God, I was taken off guard! Okay? It's not like I did it on purpose."

"He asked who I was and all you could do was stutter out a weak response. It wasn't even a response, it was a question. 'And who is this?'" he said, mimicking the doctor's voice before transitioning to hers, 'Oh, th-this is Killian. He's my-my-my my friend. Oh and the father.' _Oh and the father_? What the hell, Swan?"

"What did you want me to say? This is Killian, he's the love of my life, the father of this child and any future children, and the best lover I've ever had? Would that have been detailed enough for you?" She turned around in her anger, unable to stand there a moment longer. She walked quickly to the other aisle where the crackers and snacks were, grabbing a few boxes off the shelf.

She heard the cart approach behind her before stopping, but she didn't turn around. It wasn't until she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind that she finally relaxed, leaning back into him, letting his sweet scent envelope her.

"Forgive me?" he whispered against her neck.

She couldn't fight the smile that came to her face, although she did try. "Always." She turned around to face him, the boxes in her arms between them. "I'm sorry, too. I was just...I felt put on the spot. But you know what you mean to me, Killian, don't you?"

"Aye. I do." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers and she sighed into his mouth. When they pulled apart, he smiled against her lips. "So. The _best_ lover?"

Emma rolled her eyes and hit his chest. "Honestly. How do I put up with you?"

His arms tightened around her waist. "Honestly, love, I've no idea."

* * *

 **a / n: So this is tentatively finished. I say that because if you guys prompt me for a chapter about a certain aspect of this story, I will see if I can write it. I will also visit it again and add more later, but all the juice I had for this storyline is pretty much dry at the moment.**

 **In the meantime I'm taking any Captain Swan fanfiction prompts, including one shots! Either leave a review or catch me on Twitter (onomatopoeia91). Thank you for reading! Leave me your thoughts!**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Disclaimer: Characters from and any references to "Once Upon A Time" belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with the characters._**

 **a / n: Thank you again for the support and feedback, it means the world. As promised, here is another look at our favorite couple! Enjoy!**

* * *

She was still fast asleep when Killian opened his eyes that Sunday morning. Judging by what little light was peeking through the curtain, he deduced it was still rather early.

Emma stirred in his arms and he looked down at her, smiling slightly when he saw her peaceful face. His arm was wrapped around her and she was laying almost on top of him, her arm wrapped around his waist. She was a little over seven months now and they'd both decided they wanted to wait until the birth to know whether it was a boy or girl.

He'd been hesitant at first, wanting to know the gender of his child. But this whole thing had been a shock to both of them, and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. So they decided they wanted to be surprised.

Things had changed between Emma and him. After everything happened, they'd finally sat down and talked. They fought too, but that was expected when you put two strong personalities like them together. And it hadn't been smooth sailing from there, no. Emma still had her insecurities about being enough for Killian, and Kiillian still had his doubts that he could be a good father, be the man his Swan deserved. They were both damaged in their own ways, but they helped heal each other.

Honestly, he'd known he was in love with her within a month of knowing her, but he didn't say the words until about a week after they reconciled. He didn't want to scare her off.

She hadn't said it back, couldn't, she'd said. But he understood she had walls around her heart, and he assured her he'd be there to break them down.

She'd said the words not long after and he thought in that moment that he could never be happier than he was right then.

Emma shifted in her sleep once more and he looked back down at her, stroking his free hand softly through her hair before caressing her cheek. Her eyes fluttered before they opened, and the brilliant green met his own.

"I'm sorry, love," he murmured quietly. "Did I wake you?"

She mumbled into his chest and snuggled closer, making him chuckle. "I was having a dream," she said.

"What about?" he asked, running his hand through her hair as he gazed up at the ceiling and listened to her voice.

"We were in the delivery room, it was really calm, and then they brought this little bundle in, but...I woke up before I could see him."

"Him?"

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his chest. "Or her. I don't know, I didn't see."

He smiled down at her, pushing her hair out of her face. "Would you like to go back to sleep? Perhaps you can get a glimpse of our little one."

Emma's mouth widened into a brilliant smile. "I'd rather be awake and be with you both in the real world."

His heart clenched at her words and he tilted her chin up gently, meeting her halfway with a chaste kiss.

"Mmm," she hummed against his mouth. "Killian."

The timbre of her voice caused a stirring to begin in his trousers. "Aye, love?"

"You know what I'm in the mood for?" she asked, running a hand down his chest.

He swallowed hard. "What's that?"

"Mmm...pancakes...chocolate chip pancakes with vanilla ice cream. And strawberries. Do you have strawberries?"

Killian stared at her for a moment before he broke down into chuckles, pulling her closer.

"What's funny?" she asked with an adorable frown.

"Nothing, my love. I think I have strawberries. I'm not sure about the ice cream though."

Her frown deepened. "Rats. I have some at my place." She groaned and buried her face in his chest.

"If only there was a way to rectify that, his and her place. Oh wait..."

Emma looked up at him again and glared. "Don't start."

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Start what?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Emma pushed herself off of him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her hand instinctively going to her belly.

"The baby doesn't like having serious conversations this early in the morning," she murmured with her back to him.

"Is that right?" he asked, his eyebrow raising.

"Yes."

Killian sat up, shifting over to her, his hand going to her back while his head rested on her shoulder. "Emma..." He kissed her neck, making her shiver. "Emma, I want to talk about it again."

Emma lifted her shoulder, effectively pushing him away before she pushed herself up to stand. He reached out for her arm as she gained her balance.

"Please drop this," she said. "Please."

Killian sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her to stand between his legs. "Why?" he demanded softly.

"I already told you, I'm not ready."

"Sweetheart, the baby is going to be here in a matter of months. We need to figure out our living situation."

Emma placed her hands on his shoulders. "Why can't we both just have a nursery? You have the guest room, and I can move into a bigger place so I'd have a room for the baby."

"For how long, love? How long are we going to be separated?"

"We're not going to be separated, we're going to be co-parenting."

"Wouldn't it be easier if we were under the same roof?"

"Not necessarily," she said, running her hand up his scruffy cheek. She leaned forward and placed a kiss to his cheek, moving down to his neck. "I don't want to talk about this anymore," she murmured against him.

"No?"

"No. I'd like to do something else." She pulled back and looked at him with a coy smile before biting her lip. "Something that doesn't involve talking."

Killian clenched his jaw. Because although he loved his Swan, loved any moment he had to worship her body, he didn't appreciate that she was using sex to avoid having a real conversation about this.

She started placing kisses down the other side of his neck, moaning his name. He gave into the sensation for a few seconds before his hands went to her arms and he pushed her away gently. She looked down at him with a pinched brow and he averted his gaze to the carpet.

"I think I'm going to grab a shower."

"Alone?"

"Aye," he said. "Alone."

She stood there for a minute or so, her hands dropping from his shoulders before she turned and walked out of the room without another word.

In the shower he let the hot water cascade down his back as he replayed their lack of conversation over and over. It had been an ongoing discussion between them. Killian thought hey should move in together before the baby was born, but Emma was hesitant. He wasn't sure if it was her independence she was afraid of losing, or if she just didn't want to live with _him_. Either way, it was an unresolved argument that caused tension between them. He just wished he knew how to make her see he wasn't going to ever hurt her, or leave her. He wished she'd trust him. He wished she'd just let him take care of her.

OOOOOOO

He didn't have any strawberries and he only had chocolate ice cream in the freezer. She sighed before closing the fridge and moving over to the pantry where he did have pancakes and chocolate chips. She didn't feel like standing for that long cooking, but she also didn't want to ask Killian to do something for her since the tense exchange in the bedroom.

She ended up standing at the counter, staring at the pancake box not really thinking about anything. She wasn't sure how long she stood there before she heard Killian's footsteps and she snapped out of her trance, turning to look at him as he emerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of black sweats and a white tee shirt. She picked the box up and returned it the pantry as he entered the small kitchen.

"Do you still want pancakes, love?" he asked, his voice sounding different, distant, lacking the affection the endearment usually carried with it.

"You don't have the ice cream and strawberries I want," she mumbled, closing the pantry door and moving to the counter once more.

He stood across form her with an unreadable expression. "I can go down to the store. It'll take half an hour, tops."

She shook her head. "I don't want you to go to any trouble."

"It's no trouble, Emma," he said, frustration seeping into his voice.

Emma shrugged, her hand resting on her round belly. "I don't know what I want," she murmured quietly. She wasn't sure if she was even talking about the pancakes.

"Well I'm a patient man, take your time," he said softly.

And he was patient. She knew despite their disagreements, despite how frustrated he could be with her, he still loved her and he'd truly do anything for her. So why was she so afraid to let him in completely?

"Mmm...I guess...if you're going...I want vanilla ice cream, strawberries, and a loaf of fresh bread. Warm, preferably," she said, peeking up at him and finding relief when there was a small smirk on his face.

"Anything else?"

She moved around the counter and walked over to him. "Just one more thing," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you with everything that I am. I just...I wanted you to know that. That I love you and I know I'm difficult and I'm sorry, but I love you. I love you so much."

Killian reached down and tilted her face up to meet his. "I know that, love," he said. "I know."

Tears sprung to her eyes as she looked down at his chest. "You're so good to me. You're amazing and I know it makes more sense to live together, I know that." She sniffed back tears and looked up at him once more. "I've just...I've never lived with a guy before. And you're not just a guy, you're..." She shook her head, unable to find the words to describe just what he meant to her. "You're everything to me and I don't want to mess up and lose you or...or I don't know, I just know that losing you would kill me because I love you too damn much for my own good."

Killian wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest as he rubbed soothingly up and down her back. "Oh, Swan. I know you're scared, darling. I know that. I would never make you do something you weren't ready for. Maybe I was being selfish, and for that I'm sorry."

Emma shook her head and pushed against his chest so she could look up at him again. "Killian, you're the least selfish person I know. I just want to make you happy."

"You _do_ make me happy," he said imploringly, both hands cupping her face. "Everyday, you make me the happiest man alive. And there's nothing you could possibly do that would make me want to leave you. I love you too much to do that. I won't _ever_ be able to do that."

Emma sniffed. "Really?" she asked shakily.

"Really. And I'll wait for as long as it takes for you to believe me. I am a patient man after all," he finished with a smirk and raise of an eyebrow, making her giggle through her tears.

Her laughter subsided and she looked down at his chest once more. "So what if...what if I'm still scared, but I want to?"

"Want to what, love?"

Her eyes moved up to his. "Move in with you."

"Emma..."

She cut him off with a kiss to the lips and he lost himself in her for a few moments before gently pulling away, his forehead resting against hers.

"Swan, you don't have to decide this now. I told you, I'll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready."

"That's just it, Killian. I may never feel ready. But I want this. With you and only you."

A hopeful smile graced his lips. "Aye?"

Emma ran her hand through his hair and bit her lip before nodding once. "Aye."

He muffled her squeal of surprise with a firm kiss on the lips, making her dizzy. They were both breathing heavily when they pulled away for air a few minutes later.

"You know," she panted, "you denied me earlier."

"Aye, love," he said, his voice gruff. "Apologies, my head wasn't right."

She smirked. "Well? Aren't you going to make it up to me?"

His blue eyes snapped back to hers, the intensity in them setting her entire body ablaze. "Of course," he murmured. "What does the lady wish?"

"You know what I like," she whispered against his lips.

His entire control snapped and he fused his mouth back to hers. Carefully, he walked them towards the couch, his hands moving under her sleep shirt, breaking away from her just for a second to pull it off. She cried out as his mouth latched onto one of her sensitive nipples, suckling and placing wet kisses all around it before moving to the other one. When she couldn't take anymore, she pulled his hair, forcing his head back up so she could attack his mouth once more.

Killian's hands moved to her shorts, pulling them and her panties down her legs, helping her step out of them. When Emma moved to undo the drawstring on his pants, he stopped her, turning her around so her back was to him.

"Killian?"

"Trust me?" he murmured against her neck.

"Always."

She watched as he grabbed one of the large cushions on the couch and set it in front of her, asking her to lean on the couch.

Still slightly confused, but also curious, she climbed onto the couch on her knees, leaning over the pillow and bracing her hands on the back of the couch. Killian helped shift her so she was bent over further, her ass in the air. She was slightly insecure being so vulnerable to him, but that lasted until the second she felt him lick a stripe through her wet folds and she cried out in surprise.

"Killian," she moaned as he kissed her just like he did her lips, drawing out her pleasure.

It only intensified when he added two fingers, his mouth sucking on her clit as her gasps and moans filled the room. She just about saw stars when he spread her ass cheeks wide and dove back in, his tongue going further than it ever had before and before she knew it, her entire body was overcome with hot pulses of pleasure, her wetness coating her thighs as he gently brought her down from her high.

When he shifted to sit beside her, she was still bent over and panting heavily, feeling dizzy and completely sated.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked cheekily, placing a lingering kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Aye," she nodded, still panting. "Always."

OOOOOOO

They moved into a two bedroom closer to David and Mary Margaret. A little over two months later, Scarlet Jane was born; seven pounds and six ounces.

The first couple of months were hell. Scarlet barely slept and Emma and Killian were exhausted. But they'd managed through it and their friends had been there to help along the way.

Emma and Killian had both taken a leave of absence from work and Killian was due to return back in just a few weeks. Emma wanted to make the most of what little time they had together before the real world intervened once more.

Scarlet was just four months and Emma was breastfeeding her on the couch while Killian had gone down to the store to get more diapers.

They were both wound tight and exhausted. They'd only been intimate a handful of times since Scarlet was born, too busy when she was awake and too tired when she finally went down for the count. Emma missed that closeness she had to him, but she knew once things calmed down they'd get to share that with each other again.

The front door opened and closed and Emma smiled down at her daughter, who was lapping up the last remnants of her lunch.

"Daddy's home," Emma cooed. "Daddy." She looked up as Killian walked into the living room, setting the bags down beside him.

"Hey," he said, walking over to join them. He sat on the couch beside Emma, reaching over to cradle Scarlet's head. "Hi, little love. You're hungry, huh?"

"So hungry," Emma added affectionately, running her index finger down her daughter's face.

She was just finishing up and Killian helped pull Scarlet away so she could clean up and right her clothing. Once she was situated, she looked over at Killian, smiling as he held their daughter, gazing down at her in wonder.

"I missed you," she said, causing Killian's head to snap up. "When you were gone. I missed you."

A slow smile spread on his face. "I know, love. I missed you too."

Emma snuggled in closer, resting her head on Killian's shoulder and running her hand down her baby's head. "She's so perfect," she whispered as Scarlet's eyes fluttered closed.

"Aye, just like her mother."

Emma smothered her smile in his shoulder and shook her head. "Well she completely takes after you in one regard."

"What's that?" he asked distractedly, his eyes completely focused on the bundle in his arms.

"She completely stole my heart...just like her father did."

Killian looked up at her then, more happiness in his eyes than she'd ever seen before.

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 **a / n: You can find me on tumblr at WriteMyAnchor just to say hi or send requests for a prompt :-) thanks for reading!**


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